Clipping. - Dead Channel Sky

That there’s a heady combination of noises on a clipping. record, two decades into the experimental hip hop outfit’s existence, isn’t anything particularly notable, but there’s a specific quality to the selection of sounds the trio have collated on ‘Dead Channel Sky’ that evokes a very specific Y2K retrofuturist thread: the sound of a dial-up modem introduces the record, while ‘Change The Channel’ combines with the type of industrial percussion and synth tones that hint at ‘90s video game soundtracks. This - with its ability to evoke the excitable, positive energy of the early possibilities of the internet for a mass audience (worth mentioning here is the utterly pleasing delivery of “mainframe” on ‘Go’) - has the devastating consequence of throwing a gut-punch infinitely more effective than any of the laments on ‘doomscrolling’ or ‘screen time’ that are offered in conveyor belt quantities elsewhere.

And, as the record continues, references become increasingly less positive: see the “microchip in your neck” of ‘Dodger’; the “Politicians in the pocket” of ‘Scams’; or the “Don’t let him die / Don’t let him die / Don’t let him die / Oh he dead” of ‘Mood Organ’. Musically too, industrial beats are contrasted against softer instrumentals. Take ‘Keep Pushing’, on which a pretty piano line and swooping strings present a certain romanticism, or the Aesop Rock-featuring ‘Welcome Home Warrior’, with pop chord changes atop an Arctic Monkeys-esque bassline. If all this sounds exhausting, be reassured: ‘Dead Channel Sky’ is as rewarding as it is intense and studious - a character perhaps typified by its contrasting standout tracks. ‘Mirrorshades pt. 2’ is a high camp gem, its glitchy house beat and repetitive lyrics (which mediate on the ubiquity of the titular reflective specs) making it equally believable as a holiday club hit or Saturday Night Live sketch. Closer ‘Ask What Happened’, meanwhile, is as human – and brutal – as it gets, with a drum’n’bass beat that becomes increasingly claustrophobic while a dreamy synth line creeps below to soundtrack a raw, impassioned history lesson (“Trickle-down Monopoly money / It’s just a game, nope,” repeats its chorus; “History and future belong to the one percent though”).

Cinematic storytelling is nothing new for clipping. – and, with a vocalist who’s halfway to an EGOT, that ‘Dead Channel Sky’ is akin to a rollercoaster big-screen thriller is wholly expected - but nevertheless, it really is an epic masterpiece.